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‘I’m kind of torn.’
‘About what?’
‘I’m torn between not being able to get enough of you in that dress and wanting to get you out of it.’
‘That’s strange because I’m equally as torn as you are.’ She runs her hand down his chest. ‘Should you leave the suit on or take it off? How about you give me five minutes then join me in the bedroom.’
‘You honestly expect me to wait five minutes?’
‘It’ll be worth it. Oh and leave the suit on.’
She smiles at him as she closes the double doors into the bedroom. Tate lowers onto the arm of the couch and massages the back of his neck, trying to relieve some of the tension. The night had gone so much better than he ever could have imagined. Not only had he not made a complete eejit of himself, but both the band and Tate himself had won awards.
Winning Best Rock Album had been a fucking miracle. When they called out his name for Song of the Year, Chloe actually had to give him a nudge to get up. He’d heard the words, but they didn’t fully register. He went tonight to show his face. Coming home with two awards hadn’t even crossed his mind.
It took him a good hour or so to allow himself to relax after he stepped out of the car. Every time a reporter approached him, he prepared for the worst, but rehab hadn’t been mentioned once. After a while, his forced smile turned into a real one, but it was a very different experience to every other ceremony he’d been to.
Being stone cold sober for the entire thing probably had a lot to do with that. He’d never been drunk at any event, not once, but he’d always had something to drink over dinner. Usually something stronger beforehand too to help with nerves.
Thinking back, it’s scary how often he resorted to drink and drugs to help him through nights like tonight. He’d always told himself he was in control, but the truth was he hadn’t been in control for a long time. That old family photo may have thrown his life on its head, but if he hadn’t already been using and drinking too much, he wouldn’t have fallen as disastrously as he had.
Bad shit happens to people every day and they don’t turn to heroin to deal with it. By that stage, drugs were deeply embedded in his life whether he knew it or wanted to accept it. His first go-to option had been Eddie and whatever cocktail he’d given him over those few weeks. In his mind there was no other way to deal with what was happening. Whether the letter arrived or not, he would have fallen sooner or later. He’d been on borrowed time. Just one push away from ending up exactly where he did... or worse.
He honestly doesn’t know what he would have done without Chloe by his side this evening. While he’d struggled to get into conversation, she’d come into her own. He couldn’t be more proud of her. She was incredible. You’d swear she’d been to dozens of events like this and he was the out-of-his-depth newbie.
His impressively brief acceptance speech had been made to her and her alone. His eyes locked onto hers from the stage and he didn’t look away until he was finished talking. He can’t even remember who he thanked. His main concern was getting off the stage as fast as he could.
It was ridiculous how off balance the entire evening made him feel. Even with Chloe and the band by his side, he felt completely out of place. Like he was an imposter. His job involved him getting on stage in front of thousands of people. Tonight’s performance doesn’t bode well for his future.
He takes off his watch and checks the time. Four minutes. Fuck it. That’s long enough rehashing what he could have done better tonight. Time to put it behind him and enjoy what’s left of the night.
He opens the double doors to the bedroom and stops when he sees what’s waiting for him. Chloe has taken off her stunning dress and is sitting on the end of the bed in equally stunning underwear and a pair of killer heels. If he’d known she had that on under her dress he would have ditched the dinner a few hours earlier.
She shakes her head when she notices him. ‘You couldn’t wait five measly minutes?’
‘Not when I know you’re in here.’
He walks towards her, but she holds up a hand. ‘You stop right there.’
Tate stops in the middle of the room and watches as Chloe slowly crosses her legs. He licks his lips as his eyes travel over every inch of her body. The underwear is fucking hot but he wants to tear it off her as soon as possible.
‘Now Mr. Archer, I want you to get undressed. Slowly.’
Yeah, this is a new one for him. He’s all about getting clothes off as fast as he can in whatever order they happen to come off. He’s done stuff like this for photo shoots, but this is different. This is in front of Chloe.
‘How exactly do you envision my shoes and socks in this display? Ditch them first or maybe you’d prefer I leave them on? You like that naked with socks on look?’ He laughs when she makes a face and shakes her head.
‘Okay, you’re going to have to work so much harder to get that image out of my head. Take them off first. I beg you.’
He removes the offending items and straightens again.
‘Now, take off your waistcoat.’
Tate open his mouth, but she shakes her head.
‘No more talking. I said, take off your waistcoat.’
Tate takes a deep breath and clenches his jaw. He can either laugh off what she just said or do as he’s told and see how it plays out. Nothing to lose by doing as he’s told for a bit.
